


A Woman of Honour

by LissaMU



Series: Naughty Bits [5]
Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternative first proposal, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Rosings Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 22:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissaMU/pseuds/LissaMU
Summary: What if Darcy's proposal had been a bit more charming? What if he had stuck around after writing the letter to find out what Elizabeth had to say? And what if they happened upon a conveniently private location on the grounds of Rosings Park where they were sure not to be disturbed? ;)





	A Woman of Honour

**Author's Note:**

> I had a fantasy that I would post all my stories in the order I had originally posted them back in the day, but I'm afraid there was no way I could possibly remember that order. I believe this was some of my earliest smut, but I could be completely wrong XD Hope you enjoy it anyway :)

_3 April, 1812_

Darcy paced around his room at Rosings, his emotions harassing him with ever increasing fervour, as they had since he had arrived to find Miss Elizabeth Bennet a short walk from his aunt’s estate. He had tried to convince himself of every possible objection to a union with the woman of the fine eyes, but he found that everything came up short; he loved her, he wanted her, he _needed_ her. Hell, he had already compromised her so thoroughly in his mind that he almost felt obligated to marry her. With sudden clarity, he realised that he would never win these inner battles. The only solution to the turmoil was to win Elizabeth’s hand and cherish her the rest of his life. Marriage. Yes, it was time to propose marriage to Elizabeth Bennet.

His new resolve lending him a joviality he rarely possessed, Darcy found himself exiting Rosings towards the orchard with a spring in his step and a song in his heart. This was the hour that usually found Elizabeth taking her morning walk, and he had every intention that the end of it would see her as his wife. It was easy enough to find her, as he had done several times before, and he greeted her with a nod before falling in step with her.

'Good morning Miss Bennet. I hope you are well.' She acknowledged that she was and made no further effort at conversation; Darcy was not deterred. 'You are looking exceedingly lovely today. I have always found this dress particularly fetching.' Elizabeth slowly turned her head towards him and furrowed her brow at this strange compliment.

'Thank you,' she murmured, utterly confused.

'Though in truth,' he continued, 'you look fetching in all your dresses. The simplicity of design you prefer is most flattering to your figure, which, I dare say, is extremely alluring.' Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. Darcy had now moved quite beyond flirting into the realm of completely inappropriate.

'Mr. Darcy!' she scolded, flabbergasted. Darcy stopped and took her hand tenderly.

'I realise my statements must shock you. To be honest, I am not terribly experienced with flirtation. Perhaps I would do better to come directly to the point.' Before Elizabeth could respond, she found her lips melded to his in a passionate kiss. Several thoughts went through her mind during the short lifetime of the kiss.

_Mmm, this is nice._

_Good God, Mr. Darcy is kissing me!_

_The scoundrel! Is he trying to make me his mistress?_

_Smack!_

_Smack!_ Darcy recoiled in shock as his fantasy came to an end with a hard slap across the face courtesy of Elizabeth’s right hand.

'How dare you! Mr. Darcy, I am not that kind of woman!'

'And I am not that kind of man, Miss Bennet! My intention was to follow that kiss with a proposal of marriage.' If Elizabeth was in shock before, now she was beyond incredulous. _Did he say marriage?_

'Did you say marriage? _You_ , propose marriage to _me_?' He took her tone to be disbelief in her good fortune.

'I know this is surprising, given our relative situations in life, but I assure you that I am most sincere when I say that I love you and wish to marry you. In addition, I can promise you that your lack of fortune and connections will never be a cause for reproach once we are married.' Elizabeth nearly snorted at how similar to Mr. Collins Darcy sounded at that moment, but she was far too offended to be amused.

'You assume too much sir. My surprise stems not from awe at your position in society, but rather at your gall in addressing me so despite my obvious dislike of you.'

'Sorry?' Darcy questioned, not sure he heard what she said.

'I cannot believe you would think me so mercenary that I would even _consider_ your proposal! After your destruction of the happiness of my dear sister Jane, not to mention of poor Mr. Wickham, how could I possibly accept you?'

' _What?_ ' Elizabeth detailed for him all the objections she held against his person, from his arrogance to his denial of Mr. Wickham’s just desserts. His face grew redder with each word, and when she was finally done, he could barely speak.

'And _this_ is your opinion of me! My faults by this calculation are heavy indeed. Obviously I have misjudged many things. I will importune you no further. Good day.' With that, he stalked away. Elizabeth watched him go, certain that she would never see him again; the feeling was not as satisfying as she expected.

_4 April, 1812_

Elizabeth sat bolt upright in bed, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. _What a nightmare!_ At least, she thought it was a nightmare… though it didn’t seem all that bad at the time. Mr. Darcy was kissing her again, but this time she didn’t slap him, and he didn’t stop there. He was touching her, and peeling off the dress he had found so fetching. She was afraid to know what would come next; fortunately she had woken up before he could go farther. For the first time, she was entirely glad that she would never see him again, because it would be difficult to face him after such visions. With a sigh, she realised that she would not find sleep again this night, but as it was only 5 o’clock in the morning it was still too dark to go out. Now was as good a time as any to write to Jane an edited version of what had taken place, so she took out her letter-writing implements and sat down to write.

Darcy, meanwhile, was finishing the letter that had taken him all night to pen. In it he exposed his entire history with Wickham and explained the events of the autumn to her with complete frankness. Even the part involving Georgiana was fully detailed; he knew in his heart that he could trust her with his darkest secret. How he wished to impart all the secrets of his heart to her, but alas… Well, it was no use pining now. She had told him in no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing to do with him. All he could hope for now was her forgiveness of his past sins and her understanding of Wickham’s true character. With very good luck he might even try to earn her friendship. Any more tender feelings had to be packed away forever.

The sun’s first rays streamed into the window, shedding enough light on Darcy’s watch to show that it was 5 o’clock. _Too early to seek her out._ As he put his seal on the letter, he realised how exhausted he was. _I_ have _been up all night._ Deciding a nap was in order, Darcy lay down on the bed and allowed himself to rest.

* * * * * *

The full light of morning shone on Elizabeth at her table, rousing her from a slumber she didn’t even realise she’d fallen into. With a start, she saw that it was now nearly 10 o’clock. Dressing quickly, she hoped to have time for a quick walk before having to return for dinner. A few minutes later, she found herself out in the same orchard where Darcy had kissed her and proposed the night before. She thought she was alone until she heard a twig snap.

Darcy was as surprised as she was to run into her in the orchard. He wanted to admire her a while longer before approaching her, but the treacherous twig had broken under his foot before he could alter his path. Their eyes met, and he sensed that she was about to turn away; he called out to her to prevent it.

'Miss Bennet! Would you do me the honour of reading this letter?' With a bow, he left her alone.

Curiosity got the better of Elizabeth’s sense of propriety, and she immediately found a place to read the letter. A quarter of an hour later, she was reading it for the second time, unable to take her eyes off it. Its contents shocked her; Darcy was innocent, Wickham was a rogue; Darcy’s basis for interference, though misguided, was based on the same observation of Jane that Charlotte had made. Everything was upside down; everything was suddenly clear. On the third reading, Elizabeth burst into tears. Her words had been so cruel, especially as pertained to Wickham, who deserved no such attention. If he hated her, he had every right. And yet… he had ended his letter so charitably! Did she dare hope that his feelings had not turned completely negative overnight? And really, why did she care what his feelings were? 

As soon as he was out of Elizabeth’s sight, Darcy began to run. Seeing her again had only increased his misery at knowing that he would never have her. The pain was too great; he would have to leave Kent immediately. When the tears stopped falling, he returned to Rosings to pack his bags.

* * * * * *

He couldn’t do it. His hands refused to put his clothing in the trunks. He wanted to know Elizabeth’s reaction to his letter. He couldn’t leave now. Now he just had to hope that she could forgive him enough to tolerate his presence.

_5 April, 1812_

Elizabeth’s morning started early once again, and again the parsonage was too stifling. Again the wilds of Kent called to her, giving her the space to think. Again the orchard was the place of her reverie… and again, for the third day in a row, she found Mr. Darcy there. And again, it was no coincidence.

'Miss Bennet, I apologise for invading your privacy once more, but I could not stay away. I wonder if you read my letter.' His tone was urgent, desperate almost. She could see the sadness in his eyes.

'I have.'

'And? Have you anything to ask? Anything to say? Is there anything that should be further explained?'

'You were very thorough, sir, I have no questions. But I do have something to say. I must apologise to you for what I said the other day. My behaviour to you was unpardonable. I hope you will forgive me.'

'Forgive _you_? No, no, Miss Bennet, it is _I_ who must beg your forgiveness. I have been a fool. I am only grateful for having been given the opportunity to explain everything to you.'

They spoke for over two hours, apologising, forgiving, discussing, arguing, planning. He decided to suggest that Bingley return to Netherfield for the summer; she decided to warn her father about Mr. Wickham’s true character and ask him to speak to Colonel Forster. They parted as friends, though with perhaps a yearning on both sides to make it a bit more.

_6 April, 1812_

Elizabeth had expected a good night’s sleep after making peace with Mr. Darcy, but instead found herself kept painfully awake by thoughts and notions regarding said gentleman that she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to entertain. They kept recurring, however, and try as she might, sleep had not come. Not wanting to make Charlotte anxious for her health, Elizabeth hid her fatigue and went for her usual morning walk, this time aiming for the gazebo outside the orchard. Because of this, it took Darcy a little while longer to find her. When he did, she was fast asleep on a bench, her weariness having caught up with her at last.

It was a sight Darcy had long coveted. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes closed, her chest lightly moving up and down with her breath. She leaned awkwardly against one of the pillars, a sure sign that she had not intended for sleep to claim her. She looked too precious, too beautiful… he could not resist coming closer, lightly touching her fair, soft skin, removing his greatcoat and placing it over her shoulders to warm her.

He could not resist kissing her with all the tenderness in his heart.

Like Sleeping Beauty, Elizabeth came alive with his kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck as if by reflex, and her lips responded to his with equal ardour. She was certain that she was still trapped in a dream, for Mr. Darcy could not possibly love her still, could not possibly be kissing her here in the gazebo. Her eyelids fluttered open to prove that she would not see what she thought she felt.

But there he was. His eyes were closed and only an inch away from hers. She could smell his skin, and when his hands went around her waist, she knew this was no dream.

Darcy felt her awaken, but she did not seem in any hurry to end his kiss. No slap would follow this interlude. Still, he was not about to take any chances, and so pulled away long before he wished to do.

'Elizabeth, my dearest,' he murmured, kissing her forehead, her hair, in a desperate attempt to stay away from her tempting mouth. 'I could not help myself… you were like a dream…' She put her fingers to his lips to silence him.

'Tell me you love me, and I will follow wherever you lead,' she whispered against his mouth before kissing him again.

'Can you doubt it? There is nothing for me but to love you. I will not marry if you are not my bride. If your lips never touch mine again, this is the last kiss I shall ever enjoy.'

'Ever?' she murmured, moving her lips to his neck.

'You are the only woman in the world.' He kissed her again, little airy pecks that left her burning for a deeper touch. She ravaged his mouth, hardly knowing what she was doing, only knowing that she hungered for all of him.

'I dreamt of you, the night you kissed me,' she confessed while he paid his attentions to her neck and shoulder. 'I dreamt of you touching me, like this, and… more. You… you took off my dress, the one you found so fetching.'

'What else did I do?' he inquired, intrigued and aroused by her description.

'I don’t know… I awoke then. What do you think happened next?'

'I know quite well what I would do,' he responded hoarsely, his breathing more rapid. He pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling him, the coat tossed aside. 'I would take you as a wife… I would make love to you, prove my devotion, and bring you pleasure you cannot imagine. Pleasure and joy.'

'Pleasure…' she repeated. 'Your kisses give me pleasure. Your love gives me pleasure. Dare I ask for more?'

'Dare, my love… dare to ask, and I shall give it to you.' Elizabeth’s mouth opened to voice the request when suddenly the potential consequences of her actions startled her from this dream world. She scurried off his lap and ran to the other side of the gazebo, turning her back to him.

'I do not dare.' Cursing his idiocy, Darcy rose and went to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

'You need not ask me now. In fact, I think at this moment it is I who must ask a question. Dearest Elizabeth, my most beloved, please… be my wife.' Elizabeth’s breath caught; she had not expected another proposal so soon, if at all. She seemed to have underestimated his resolve, his dedication… and his love. Turning back to him, she reached up and touched his face and hair seductively.

'I said I would follow wherever you lead. I will follow you to the altar if that is where you wish to lead me.' Darcy’s joy was beyond description at her words; he picked her up and swung her around, laughing with delight.

'My Elizabeth, my own.' Their lips met once more in celebration, but quickly turned as passionate as any they had yet allowed. 'Ah Lizzy,' he mumbled into her ear, 'I must lead you to the altar before long… I only wish I could lead you to my bedchamber even now.'

'I will follow,' she replied.

'How I desire you! How I long to take you away and show you the pleasure that will be ours.'

'I will follow.' His thumb caressed her jaw as he looked deep into her eyes. He could see that she was in earnest.

'You mustn’t follow my love. Much as I wish it, I cannot ask it of you. I will survive.'

'I _wish_ to follow,' came her husky reply. 'But not to your bedchamber. Here, where we have come to our understanding, and where our love has blossomed.' Darcy swallowed hard, trying to convince himself that she did not mean what he thought she meant. She could not be offering herself to him here, out in the woods, where anyone might see! He could not take advantage of her momentary lapse of reason.

'Elizabeth, we mustn’t. Anyone might see us here, and I could not live with myself if I took this from you… please reconsider before I no longer have the control to resist you.'

'We have met here three days and no one has come upon us. And I have no intention of allowing you to resist me. You cannot take what is given, and I am giving myself to you freely. I want you.'

How could he resist? He could not, and inhibitions aside, he had no desire to do so. Her body beckoned him like a Siren’s song, and he was happy to crash into the shore. His arms enveloped her, keeping her safe and close as he allowed himself the pleasure of inhaling the scent of her hair and running his hands along her back. Along the way he found the enclosures of her dress and slowly undid them. Tearing himself away, he brought the dress with him, reverently peeling it from her body to leave her in petticoat, corset, and chemise. Unsure how to undo the ties of the corset, Darcy dropped his hands briefly; long enough for Elizabeth to go to work on his clothing. Her fingers deftly rid him of his cravat and overcoat quickly enough, and she pulled out his shirt as he stepped out of his boots.

Elizabeth only stared at Darcy’s bare chest for a few seconds, admiring his beauty and strength. She softly touched his skin, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from him. Her mouth then began its exploration, tasting him, teasing him. Her lips burned him, leaving him hotter with each passing moment. He barely noticed when her hands left him to attend to the corset; only when she pulled away completely and let it fall did he realise what she had been doing. Her remaining undergarments left little to the imagination, but he could not be satisfied until her saw her in her natural state, every inch of skin exposed to him.

As if reading his mind, Elizabeth stepped back again and slowly, seductively, stripped off her chemise and petticoat and let them fall to the ground. Darcy’s throat went completely dry. This was too good to be true! Elizabeth, nude before him, opening her arms to him in invitation… he swept her up in his embrace once more and began covering her face and neck with kisses, his hands wandering all over her newly exposed skin. 'So soft… you are so sweet and soft…' 

While he enjoyed his new field of discovery, Elizabeth began to realise that she was at a slight disadvantage; Darcy still wore his breeches, a fact she was eager to correct. Her hands moved down to the buttons and fumbled with them until he impatiently took over; he was naked in seconds. When he stepped back to pull his feet out of the breeches, Elizabeth observed him, eyes widening as he seemed to grow even as she watched. She reached out to touch him, sending a shudder through his body. He gripped her wrist tightly to stop her. Her soft caress was already threatening to send him over the edge. He pulled her against him, revelling in the feel of her naked skin against his. 

Elizabeth was quite content to be so near to Darcy, but soon she began squirming as her body cried out for more. Eager to move on himself, Darcy picked up his discarded clothes and set them down on the ground for Elizabeth to lie on. She lay back and stared up at him with a mixture of innocence and seductiveness he found irresistible. He slowly bent over her, touching every inch of her body, causing her to arch to his touch and moan with pleasure. When he finally reached her core, she thought she would faint, the bliss was so intense. Darcy knew he would not last long once they began their dance, so he intended to pleasure her now… with any luck more than once.

He watched her intently as she approached her first climax, her gasps coming faster and closer until the wave hit her; her face registered innocent surprise. This was immediately followed by a look of longing. 'More,' she groaned in protest when his fingers left her. Happily, he replaced his hand with his mouth and continued his ministrations, teasing her and licking her while she writhed underneath him. Her shock soon turned to ecstasy as he brought her to the peak yet again.

As she trembled with the aftershocks, Darcy carefully placed himself between her knees, sure that she was ready for him. Elizabeth grabbed his neck to kiss him, aroused further by the taste of herself on his lips. 

'Are you ready Elizabeth?' he whispered, placing himself at her entrance. She nodded, hungry for all he had to give. With a push, he entered her, stifling her cry of pain with a kiss. He did not move at once, but rather waited for her to initiate a rhythm at her own pace. The heat built up inside him with each slow, deep thrust. It wasn’t long before her warmth and tightness had him in a frenzy, and he finally erupted inside her.

Elizabeth’s panting told him she was close yet again; her excitement making her forget her inhibitions, she brazenly took his hand and made him touch her, keeping him inside as he brought her pleasure yet again. He only rested when she collapsed back with exhaustion. He kissed and stroked her hair while their breathing returned to normal. 

'I have enjoyed all our walks together Elizabeth, but I do believe that this one is my favourite of all.' She cuddled more closely against him, finding the greatcoat and pulling it over them like a blanket. A haze of pleasure still cloaked her mind and made her loathe to leave their present position. The wonders she had found in his arms were still beyond her comprehension.

They maintained a comfortable silence until Elizabeth spoke. 'Marry me,' she whispered. 'Let me give this to you everyday of our lives.' Darcy would almost have laughed at this role reversal if he had not been so overwhelmed by joy.

'Of course love, but I thought we had already agreed on that. Besides, do you think I would let you escape after compromising me this way?' he teased. Elizabeth rolled him over onto his back so that she now lay on top of him.

'I am a woman of honour, sir. I accept responsibility for my actions,' she replied with mock seriousness. 'But you know, since I have you in this position,' she continued seductively, pressing herself more firmly against him, 'perhaps I should ensure that you are so thoroughly compromised that you could not possibly resist…'


End file.
